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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29326965">Hey Papa</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaithAndATypeWriter/pseuds/FaithAndATypeWriter'>FaithAndATypeWriter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tales of the Rebirth of Jason Dupain-Cheng [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bakeries and Video Games, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Jason Dupain-Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug &amp; Jason Todd Are Siblings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:48:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>723</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29326965</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaithAndATypeWriter/pseuds/FaithAndATypeWriter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Akuma attacks could in no way be considered a good thing, but Tom was accustomed to working around them.  They were a fact of life by now: get up before dawn greeted the sky, get the ovens running, scramble to finish work left over from akuma attacks.</p>
<p>What he still was (pleasantly) not accustomed to was having his son home.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tales of the Rebirth of Jason Dupain-Cheng [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154114</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>290</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hey Papa</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tom rubbed his eyes as he slowly made his way down the stairs, trying not to wake the still sleeping members of his family.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Turning on the lights in the bakery momentarily blinded him and Tom petulantly scrunched his eyes and blinked until he adjusted to the light.  After a long sip of his coffee, Tom set down his thermos and began the morning prep.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The akuma yesterday really ate into his baking time for the specialty order of macrons for a birthday party, due to be delivered before noon.  All his cooking utensils and ingredients became sentient and walked out to join a pizza delivery overlord.  The Miraculous Ladybug Cure brought everything back to rights, of course, but the battle took several hours that he could have been baking and left him idle.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Once the battle was over, they were swarmed with patrons wanting to buy a snack or something for dinner rather than make something, still shaken after seeing all of </span>
  <em>
    <span>their</span>
  </em>
  <span> utensils and ingredients become sentient.  The droves of stress-eaters always spiked after an akuma battle, but this kept them even busier than normal.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Twice he’d had to convince his son that it wasn’t worth it to just chuck baguettes at the masses and declare, “Let them eat cake!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After cleaning up that mess, it was well past closing time and Sabine convinced him that it was best that he not burn the midnight oil trying to make up for the lost time.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Marinette seemed especially distressed about the whole thing and Tom couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why.  Jason said to leave it to him, and Tom knew Jason was always good at getting his sister to open up to him, but it didn’t change the fact that his child was struggling with something and didn’t open up to </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever Jason said to Marinette seemed to work and she seemed in better spirits after they all sat down for a late dinner.  She even suggested a quick game of Ultimate Mecha Strike 3, which honestly made Tom’s night and felt like it took twin flour bags off his shoulders.  Playing with both Marinette </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jason again?  It made him happier than when Marinette demolished him on the original Ultimate Mecha Strike back when she was six.  Even Sabine joined in, even though they all knew video games weren’t her favorite pastime.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It even made his early morning a little brighter just to think about it.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But it was time to get to work.  Tom needed to start working on the special order, in addition to the regular stock, then there was the daily order elderly Mme. Eagan needed delivered…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tom paused as he noticed the empty container with a note over it.  Why was the container empty?  That’s where they usually kept the order they baked for the homeless shelter…which he had not prepared last night either. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tom sighed, realizing that he should probably prioritize filling that order first so that it could be delivered on time.  He picked up the note, expecting it to be a reminder from Sabine or maybe instructions on what the shelter needed.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey Papa,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I already baked the order for the homeless shelter and I’m about to leave to deliver it.  I hope you don’t mind, but I also added a few extra boxes of macrons.  I can pay later if you want.  I should be back by five to help with the special order.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>P.S. We may not be in the cesspit of Gotham anymore, but your eclairs are still too good for us mere mortals.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t let Marinette near the coffee or we’re all screwed.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Love, Jason</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom’s eyes misted over and his mustache tilted up in a smile.  He spent a few more moments just smiling at the note before he carefully put it in his shirt pocket for safe keeping.  He’d have to show Sabine later—she’d love it!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Quickly washing his hands and getting to work, Tom started to hum a little as he waited for his son to come home.  Jason must have been up most of the night doing that order by himself.  If he thought Tom was going to let him keep going on without sleep, he had another thing coming!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wait.  Marinette was trying to drink coffee again?!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Edit May 1, 2021</p>
<p>I was recently notified that this story has been nominated for a Maribat Award on Tumblr! 😲🎉  I do not have a Tumblr account, so unfortunately I can’t comment there, but thank you to whoever nominated this story, to all those working on the Maribat Awards, and everyone who has taken the time to read! ❤️</p></blockquote></div></div>
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